The Magazine of the Missionary Society of St. Columban
March/April 2014
Called to Communion
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Called to Communion
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ecently, Pope Francis presented us with a wonderful image of what he believes the Church ought to be. Taking his cue from the loving attitude of the father who rushes out to welcome home his prodigal son, the Pope says that the Church should be seen as the home of a loving and forgiving Father. “The Church is called to be the house of the Father,” he says, “with doors always wide open.” And that is how it was at the beginning. The infant Church was a unified family, a communion, and this unity was later declared in the Nicene creed to be the first of the four marks of the true Church, “I believe in one, holy, catholic and apostolic Church.” In the Acts of the Apostles we find communities of baptized Christians of different races and social strata living together harmoniously as one family. “Those who believed were of one heart and soul, and no one said that any of the things which he possessed was his own, but they had everything in common.” (Acts 4:32) As one theologian puts it, the Church is “a ‘communion’ or fellowship among human beings and God.” Pope Francis invites all of us to reproduce in our everyday Christian lives this kind of togetherness and fraternal concern. He writes, “I especially ask Christians in communities throughout the world to offer a radiant and attractive witness of fraternal communion.” And he further expresses the wish that all parishes become “environments of living communion and In So Many Words participation,” that is, houses of the Father. By Fr. T.P. Reynolds To the Pope’s embarrassment, however, as he takes inventory of the Church he has been elected to lead, he discovers that in Catholic parishes many underprivileged people feel ignored by their better-off fellow Christians. These victims of neglect are obliged to survive off the beaten track, in places like the shanty towns or city dumps of underdeveloped countries, or—as you will discover when you read this issue of Columban Mission magazine—the tombstones of a city cemetery. When Pope Francis visited Brazil recently he comforted the victims of Christian neglect in the hey are creating favelas and brought encouragement to the victims communion in contexts that of alcoholism and drug addiction who struggle to survive without much hope. And what he did, he make it extremely difficult asks all of us to do. This issue presents stories of people who are for the underprivileged to seriously doing something about it. Please read feel that in the Church they their stories. They are creating communion in contexts that make it extremely difficult for the really do have a “house of underprivileged to feel that in the Church they really do have a “house of the Father.” the Father.”
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Columban Fr. T.P. Reynolds lives and works in Los Angeles, California. www.columban.org
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Everyone Has a Story Energized by History is he? Is it possible to contact him? Her granddaughter who is studying in Australia would like to contact him. When she was an area representative in Jangdong Catholic Church years ago, Fr. Jimmy was the pastor. He was very good to her and kind to her family. She spoke at length about the work he did in the parish. As I tried to tell her how and where Fr. Jimmy is now in Sydney, Australia, I found I had a problem. She has trouble hearing. So she produced a piece of paper for me to write on, and she kept
the Korean noble men and scholars who started the church in Korea in 1784 who was baptized with the Christian name of John the Baptist. Now, it is not every day you meet somebody who is related to the original Korean Catholics. But when we do, they are proud to tell us and share with us about their Catholic heritage. I had never met anyone who was a descendent of Yi Byeok. I tried to probe more about her ancestors. But with her hearing problem, I was only interfering with my questions in her own unconscious flow of memories.
I see that she is full of the blood of martyrs running in her veins, energized by the history of the Korean church and grateful memories of French, Columban, and Paulist missionaries with and through whom she developed her strong faith and zest for life. By Fr. Sean Conneely
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umnyo Lee (Gudra) is 94 years old. She has been coming to our benefactors’ monthly Mass for many years and is one of our ongoing benefactors. I meet her on the street on and off. Apart from short greetings, I never had the chance or maybe never took the time to chat with her. She is usually with one other quiet member of our monthly benefactors’ group. Last month after the Mass, she asked me to sit down and share some of the rice cakes with her. She had a request. Was Fr. Jimmy Duggan, one of our Australian Columbans, still alive? Where
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speaking. She is a very clear and organized speaker with the little Chungcheong province accent. Since I didn’t have the address and phone number of Fr. Jimmy on hand, I asked her to wait till I got it in my office. When I came back she had moved to another room and was talking with Justina Choi, our benefactors’ group chair person. After giving her the phone number, I decided to find out more about her. She was only too glad to share her life story with me. There was no need for probing or asking many questions. She was still sharing 30 minutes later. She was born in Chungcheong area in an old Catholic village. She is a descendent of Yi Byeok, one of
Her family moved to Seoul when she was young, and she grew up in Myongdong and Hwehwadong parishes, which were run by the Paris Foreign Missionaries at that time. She wanted to share about the influence, care and love her family got from the two Father Songs. She went on to tell me how one was captured by the North Korean army during the Korean War — although he could have escaped to Busan — and brought as captive north on the long Winter’s March and died in Nampo. Talking about the French priests and Paulist Sisters, who died on the march, reminded her of the missionaries killed by the North Korean Army in her home www.columban.org
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area of Daejeon in 1951. She knew the whole story of how they were thrown into a well along with the Korean captives on the grounds of the Franciscan Monastery in Daejeon City. Years later, when they recovered the decomposed bodies from the well, they were able to distinguish the foreigners from the Koreans, she said, by the difference of the lengths of their bones. The foreigners had bigger bones than Koreans at that time. For some reason she was not aware that three of those foreigners were probably our Columban priests, Frs. Brennan, O’Brien and Cusack, who were captured in Mokpo City, and marched north to Daejeon by the retreating North Korean soldiers who killed them and disposed of
Fr. Sean with Kumnyo Lee
them in Daejeon in a well. Their remains were never identified among the large numbers recovered from the well and from other mass graves in Daejeon. I often wondered what gave Kumnyo Lee so much energy at the age of 94. She is full of enthusiasm. She goes to daily morning Mass.
She never misses our monthly Mass. She seems always happy, joyful and wearing colorful clothes and always a beautiful hat. Now, I see that she is full of the blood of martyrs running in her veins, energized by the history of the Korean church and grateful memories of French, Columban, and Paulist missionaries with and through whom she developed her strong faith and zest for life. She hopes to meet Fr. Jimmy Duggan before she dies. If she is unable to meet him, she hopes that her granddaughter will be able to meet him and convey her respect and gratitude to him. CM Columban Fr. Sean Conneely lives and works in South Korea.
Giver of Life Ordinary People Inspired by Faith By Fr. Michael Hoban
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ne of the great rewards of being a missionary priest is the opportunity to meet and work with extraordinary people. Since I was appointed the Episcopal Vicar of the Southern Zone of the Archdiocese of Santiago, Chile, I have been privileged to meet dozens of extraordinary people: laymen and lay women, deacons, Sisters and priests. They are ordinary people who are inspired by their faith to do extraordinary things in some of the most dangerous neighborhoods of the city. Over the past several decades, there has been an explosion of violence in the poorer poblaciones (housing complexes) fuelled by drug trafficking. www.columban.org
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Twenty years ago, José Agustin was returning to his home on a Sunday morning when he was attacked and murdered. He was killed right in front of his home in Lo Espejo, one of the poorest municipalities of the city of Santiago. For Señora Nancy Orellana and her husband, the loss of their son, murdered so tragically, brought them to the brink of despair. She decided that her faith in the Risen Christ could not allow her to be submerged in her own loss nor live the rest of her life condemning the people who commit such horrible crimes. For many years she had worked as a volunteer with Sister Roset Garriga, a missionary Sister trying
to rehabilitate men and women who suffer from the disease of alcoholism. She knew that a high percentage of crimes are committed by people who are under the influence of alcohol or drugs. She knew that the only way forward was to do whatever she March/April 2014
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A deeply religious woman who has read the entire Bible several times, [Nancy] believes that restoring faith in God is an essential ingredient in therapy. could to help them recover sobriety. So in the year 2000 she founded the Casa de Rehabilitación (House of Rehabilitation) Jesús de Nazaret which is located in one of the biggest shantytowns in the city of Santiago. Columban missionaries have pastoral responsibility for this area. The facilities of the Casa de Rehabilitación Jesús de Nazaret are very basic: a couple of dormitories with bunk beds, several individual bedrooms, showers and bathrooms, kitchen and dining room, laundry, a living/recreation room, a meeting room, office, storeroom and patio. The entire structure is built with wood and in constant need of repair. Recently the kitchen nearly burnt down. There was no gas to cook with, so a wooden stove was being used to cook dinner. Too much fuel ignited the back wall. Fortunately, the fire was quickly put out. Men of all ages live at the Casa de Rehabilitación, but their therapy is conducted outside the home at a nearby clinic. Nancy works 6
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closely with Fr. Sergio Naser, the director of the clinic. Fr. Naser is the founder of the Clinic which has rescued several thousand men and women from the diseases of alcoholism and drug addiction. The men go each day to the clinic where they take part in individual and group therapy. They are supervised by a professional staff of doctors, psychologists and social workers. When they return from the clinic, their time is spent doing the various domestic chores in the Casa. There is no staff to cook, wash or clean. For many of the men, assuming responsibility for these domestic chores is an important part of their recovery. Many of them have lived on the streets and lost the basic habits of personal hygiene and care. Any repairs to the buildings are also done by the men. They are encouraged to look after one another. On the weekends, family members are encouraged to visit the men. There are not many rules in the Casa Jesús de Nazaret. No alcohol or drugs are permitted on
the grounds, and the men are not allowed in the home if they have consumed alcohol or drugs. They can return when they are sober. The normal period of residence at the Casa is nine months. Nancy says, “if it takes nine months to be born, it also takes nine months to be born again.” A deeply religious woman who has read the entire Bible several times, she believes that restoring faith in God is an essential ingredient in therapy. All the men are required to attend Mass each Sunday, and they must do a three day retreat known as the Conversion Retreat. I have been privileged to hear the confessions of many of the men in rehabilitation during this retreat. I am always struck by the desire of the men to be reconciled with their families and with God. When a man has been sober for several months, he is allowed to visit his home if he has one. After six or seven months, he is encouraged to look for work. For the last few months, he will go off to work during the day and return to the home in the evenings. Nancy knows that not all the men are capable of rehabilitation. For that reason, she has never put a limit on the number of times a man can return to the Casa Jesús de Nazaret. I asked her if she was discouraged because some of the men would not achieve sobriety. Her answer was a definite “no.” She pointed out with pride that most of her “sons” have returned to their homes. A few even returned to school and among her “graduates” are teachers, and other professionals. Nancy may have lost her son, but she continues to be a real mother for many men who are lost. CM Columban Fr. Michael Hoban first went to Chile in 1971.
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Encounter Meeting in the Now by Sr. breda Noonan
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ne morning early in the southern Philippines, I was coming back from Mass. As I walked up the hill, I saw in front of me a tiny woman, with small spindly legs which came down beneath her tribal dress. She was probably from a distant village. I said, “Maayong buntag, ‘Nang” (Good morning, older sister). She gave me a big smile and replied, “Maayong buntag. Pinaskohan!” This was a cultural way of saying, “have you a gift for me?” “Pinaskohan? ‘Nang” I replied, “It is only October, and Christmas is far away.” “Ah,” she replied with an even bigger smile, “but it is now that we meet.” I stopped in my tracks. What had she said? Is that the meaning of Christmas—the remembering and celebration of an event that invites us to recognize each other and greet each other as brother and sister each and every day? “It is now that we meet.” That is the Christmas event. I gazed at my little tribal “teacher” in wonder and love. I gave her all I had in my pocket, a small return for her incredible gift. I never met her again, but she continues to smile her precious smile and to speak to me as I walk the streets. Another moving encounter took place in our local Filipino market. It was with some young Badjaos. These are a Muslim tribal WWW.COLuMbaN.ORG
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group who live in boats off southwestern Mindanao. Sometimes they gather around big ships in local ports and dive for coins that passengers would throw into the sea. I have even seen them dive with babies strapped to their backs – it was good for business. One day as I walked up the main street of Pagadian City, two young Badjao girls, about 14 years old, came up to me. They were tall, very thin, with matted hair. Their skin was very rough from constant exposure to the sea, wind and sun.
I thought, when has this child ever been bought an ice cream? So we went off to the department store.
They asked for money, but instead I offered them some lansones (local fruit) that I had just bought. They took a handful and went away. Later, that night, I began to ask myself, “why didn’t you give them the whole bag?” Some days later I met them again; the request for money was repeated. I replied, “No money, bread,” and we went off to the baker where they chose buns for themselves. This happened a few more times. Every time they would come running and say “No money, bread,” and always with a big grin. One day as I walked across the market I saw one of the girls who was on her own. She ran up to me, linked my arm and off we went to the baker’s shop. She stood looking at the buns and then said with that mischievous grin, “Ice cream.” I started to say, “No,” and then thought, when has this child ever been bought an ice cream? So we went off to the department store. Out we came with a big ice cream cone. With delight written all over her face she went off. I often think and pray for her, and her hard life. Soft ice cream cones will always speak of her to me, my Badjao friend and her captivating grin. CM Columban Sr. Breda Noonan worked for many years in the Philippines and in Handsworth, Birmingham.
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Volunteer Prison Chaplain God Is Our Shepherd Always Columban Fr. Patrick Colgan interviews Ms. Salvacion “Sally” Napano, full time domestic worker and volunteer prison chaplain in Hong Kong. Sally, can you tell us something about your childhood and your early involvement in the Church? I was born on Guimaras Island (Iloilo), the Philippines, on September 14, 1961. I am the fifth of eight siblings, five boys and three girls. My father was a rice farmer and my mom a busy housewife! Although our church was far away from the village, we always went, and I can remember dreaming about being a nun (I used to play, dressing up in a veil!). 8
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Tell us about your working life. Well, first I went to work as a domestic helper in the Middle East, in Kuwait. I worked there for a local “mother and daughter” family, who were very considerate to me, not demanding that I dress in full Arab robe and veil even allowing me to wear trousers at home unlike most other domestic workers. When the Gulf War drew near, the Philippine government urged us all to evacuate and paid part of our flights out of Kuwait. It was a
nightmare journey, going by Jordan and Iraq since the normal Saudi and Dubai routes were closed. In Jordan we had to sleep on the street for a week. In Iraq the government found an empty warehouse for us, where we were fed tinned sardines, cucumber and lettuce, every day, every meal for another week. I can never eat sardines again! In 1991, I came to Hong Kong. My first employers were a British couple for whom I worked for eight happy years. I thought I had enough money by then and www.columban.org
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planned to go back home for good. But within two years, and with big hospitalization costs for my sickly mother growing all the time, I realized I would have to return. So I came back in the year 2000, first to a Chinese family and then an Australian family. I am now with a Korean couple with young children. How did your interest in prison ministry begin? In late 2008, I attended a seminar run by a Filipina catechist on “Suicide Counseling.” I was very interested in this because a number of close and distant family members, as well as neighbors in my village had committed suicide, and I often wondered if I should have seen the signs and been of greater help. During that seminar, I met the wife of a Filipino prisoner here in Hong Kong, who happened to be the friend of my cousin. I went to see him, and he gave me the names of two others who wanted a visit. It has mushroomed since then. I now visit four prisons in Hong Kong every Sunday in rotation, and am in very frequent contact with the families of seven prisoners (from the Philippines, Benin, Surinam and Colombia). I help them to get email messages in and out (they are only allowed to send one foreign letter every three months), as well as buying them batteries, soaps, magazines, Bibles and whatever they ask for and need. Do you find the work difficult? Yes, I often find it challenging. My only day off is Sunday, and I spend it going long distances to jails and then waiting for all the security procedures to be completed. When I eventually do see a prisoner, it is behind a glass, and we are using www.columban.org
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phones. It is often hard to hear them, and especially difficult when their English is poor. Do you feel your visit helps them? I have one Filipino kuyo (big brother) in prison, who is paralyzed. At the beginning, he was very silent and sullen, just saying Bahala na (There is nothing I can do.) I used to cry on my side of the glass, trying to encourage him. I organized lodgings for his wife when she visited two years ago, and then last year, kept her in my room, with my employer’s permission. Slowly he is now more positive, praising his wife’s love and his childrens’ good educations. He even joked with me last week,
Jesus did say, “I was in jail, and you came to see me…” asking me not to cut my long hair! I have told him, that even though the weather is so hot, I will sacrifice cutting my hair, as a prayer for him. What gives you the strength to continue? Even though I am not a formal member of a Church group such as the Legion of Mary, my attendance at Sunday Mass is very important to me. I often cry inwardly during priests’ sermons; it is as if the Lord is speaking to me directly. I had promised God that once all my family debts and obligations were cleared, I would live and use any disposable income totally for Him. I have seen miracles even among my employers’ families (who are not believers) when I pray for them, for example the total healing of
my Korean “grandfather” from a stomach complaint. I do wonder sometimes if I am really helping the prisoners enough in what I say, because I am not an expert in the Bible. Often it is their words to me that inspire me and keep me going. Do you have any message for other domestic workers here in Hong Kong? I would like to encourage them to use their gifts, especially the gifts of listening and healing that God has given to us Filipinas, for our brothers and sisters in jail. Sometimes we waste our day off sitting around the streets and parks, when we could give just an hour or two to someone worse off than ourselves. Jesus did say, “I was in jail, and you came to see me…” Your birthday is coming soon; how do you plan to spend it? God is so good; I am going home for ten days, arriving on my birthday. I will be organizing a time of praise and worship for the people in my home village. I feel sorry for those simple, peaceful people; they work hard farming but still cannot find money for the bus fare to church. I will encourage them. I may finish my contract in Hong Kong next year and need to renovate my little house and land at home. I miss my parents not being alive, but God is our Shepherd always. CM Columban Fr. Patrick Colgan interviewed Ms. Salvacion in Hong Kong. Fr. Colgan serves on the General Council for the Society.
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Let Me Sing for You Image and Likeness by Fr. Leo Donnelly
God said, “Let us make mankind in our image, in the likeness of ourselves.” ~ Gen. 1, 26 What did God really mean by “our image and likeness?” Is it possible, in the context of the lie that dominates our world, to begin to understand what God is telling us, each and every one of us, about ourselves as persons? Who of us of whatever period, culture, place, economic or educational standing in society, in our whole world, has ever begun to understand our real worth? What does it mean in fact having been created in the “image and likeness” of our Father in heaven? On a recent trip to Ireland, an incident left me fascinated. Staying with friends on a farm outside of Cork, grandma drove me to the nearby farm of their eldest son. We parked and went in through the kitchen door. There, spreadeagled on the floor still in his gumboots off the farm was her son playing with his infant son. Dan said hello, but continued to allow the infant to play on around his head and shoulders. He didn’t set 10
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aside the tyke and stand to talk with the adults, and the message the infant received was, I am more important to you than these two adults! Marvelous! I couldn’t help but think what a different world we would have were all fathers to act in the same manner. This was a clear message to the infant of its value as a person, a perfect beginning to self-appreciation which in turn becomes a perfect base from which the child would learn to appreciate others in life. Take any culture you wish— Asian, Arabian, American, African, European, islander from wherever—the lie rules. Find if you can the Muslim, the Jew, the Christian, the Hindu or whomsoever, who is not crippled in their awareness of his or her limitless capacity to know and to love others, and of their equally limitless need to be known and to be loved by others. As victims ourselves, it is not possible to value the same grace in those who enter our lives. There is simply no way we can measure this universal and limitless capacity and need that is
possessed by every human being. A wretched but powerful instance is the sick, emaciated African child in its mother’s arms and propped up by the flies covering its naked body, yet still sharing in a limitless capacity and need to be known and to be loved. We have only the slightest notion of what it means to be loved in God. Yet it was God’s infinite capacity to know and to love, God’s infinite need to be known and to be loved, that spelt out for us our creation as persons. We are, each one of us, a product of God’s self awareness. In most cultures, as far as I can make out, constraints prevent the father from expressing his own desire to be known and to be loved by his own child. For most fathers, the son or daughter is another mouth to feed and for this he will give his life. This is tremendous, but it is not enough. It doesn’t begin to tap into the felt capacity and need we all carry. Each child at birth stands most in need of love and this expressed in touch, attention, sharing, words, WWW.COLuMbaN.ORG
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smiles, embraces and welcome. Our generalized tragedy is mostly cultural and expressed in his seeming “indifference” towards self-expression of inner feelings. This is read by the infant too quickly as a rejection of our worth as persons. Out of thus being “put down” springs a sense of inferiority that we’ll carry to the grave. An assurance of our father’s love for us guarantees an understanding of self-worth which in turn likewise transposes from oneself to others throughout our lives. What a different world we could build! Our sense of self-image can too easily become damaged. We seek to be loved by others, but an inability on our part to give will limit the value built into friendship, and even in marriage. For clarity, let me paraphrase Paul, “where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom and we, our faces unveiled, reflecting like mirrors, the brightness of the Lord as we are turned into the image that we reflect.” ~ 2 Cor. 3, 18 Perhaps even more emphatically, “Kneeling before the Father from whom every family ….. takes its name, I pray ….. until you are filled with the utter fullness of God.” ~ Ephes. 3, 14 It is only by stepping into the ambiance for which we were created that we will find the freedom to be aware of our gift, and what it truly means. Then will freedom blossom. Only when we stand in the ambiance of God’s infinite knowledge and love will our own “image and likeness” become real for us. There we shall see that it was God’s infinite need to be known and to be loved that spelt out creation for us and more marvelously still in God’s “image and likeness.” Only then will the full awareness of our personal value dawn upon us, and we’ll see and become aware of the same in WWW.COLuMbaN.ORG
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everyone else. A new world opens. A simple example I love to use is that of an elderly couple. For some fifty years their lives have been intertwined through all of their emotional ups and downs, their displeasures, their reconciliations, happiness, concerns, sorrows and peace. Each knows the other intimately as the person he or she is, and yet the day will never come when one could say to the other: “I know and love you completely. There is no more in you to be known or loved; nor do I need to be known and loved by you.” This patently can’t happen. While we live, we hope for and need more to know and to love to be known and to be loved. Each father is part of a chain of many factors. If he came into the world in weak conditions of being
known and being loved, he carries fractures that remain part of him the rest of his life. No one father is to blame. I am not talking about blame but rather am advocating a desperate need for a change in mentality and approach to life. Our full awareness is down the road for each. However, this in no way takes from the reality of the gift that already is a real part of our being. A real part of the person who stands in front of us, near us or belongs to another human culture. In it, male or female, we share the same dignity. Together we are one. CM Following a short illness, Columban Fr. Leo Donnelly passed away suddenly in February 2014. As per his wishes, he will be buried in Peru, to stay forever among the people he served.
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Cemetery Children God Revealed by Sr. Julietta Choi
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efore coming to the Philippines I heard that some of our Sisters had started a ministry for people who live in a cemetery in Manila. How is that possible? I asked myself; cemeteries are for the dead, not for the living. I was full of doubts. So when I arrived here in January 2012, I wanted straight away to go and visit the people who live in the cemetery; I felt a mysterious force pulling me there. One of our Sisters told me that many children lived among the graves. This really distressed me as before I joined the Columban Sisters, I had taught
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children in school. I could not imagine them – the little ones among the dead. When we got there I was immediately struck by the shape of the tombs – they were rectangle or square blocks of cement. In Korea the tombs are mounds of earth shaped like little hills. Then I met the people. They have no place to live but here; they eat and sleep on top of the tombs. Many earn their living by cleaning the tombs. Then I saw the children. They were very dark, dirty, some with no clothes, and most without shoes. In my fear I thought, is it dangerous
to stay here? Will I be safe with them? Will it be possible for me to love them? I was not comfortable holding the children’s dirty hands; no way could I hug them. At that moment, I felt I could not stay with them even for one hour. I felt I was not a missionary; I was a tourist. I just wanted to see the way the people lived in a cemetery, that was all. I wanted to get out of there as fast as I could. It was a dreadful moment. When I got out of the cemetery, I realized my world had turned upside-down and inside-out. All the theology that I had studied did not WWW.COLuMbaN.ORG
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fit at all with the reality that I had just experienced. I was a tourist, curious and wanting to see how people outside my world lived, but I had no understanding of what it might mean to follow Jesus all the way. It was an hour of shocking selfrevelation. I realized I hadn’t yet found the meaning of mission. The next morning, Sr. Venus, with whom I live in community, said, “I must show you the classroom.” She worked with the people here and knew their pain, their poverty. I followed her still feeling shocked at what had happened. The classroom was a plain tomb – not too big, not too small, in an open area with no roof on it. No chairs, no desks, no shelter. After a while the children began to come. It was bedlam. Class started, but some of the children were jumping and flying like Tarzan from tomb to tomb. I felt I would go out of my mind. To make matters worse, it started to rain, but that didn’t bother them at all. In fact, it was only the missionary Sister (me) who ran for shelter. However, even if I was dismayed to have an uncovered grave for a classroom, I saw in the eyes of the children a hunger for learning. I felt their yearning. On my way home, I had some strange feelings. Though I really did not want to go back to this dreadful place, I knew I could not reject the eyes of the children who were looking at me. So I went back. The first thing was to look for another meeting place. I found a lovely spot a little apart from the graves. At first only five to ten children came but as time went by the number increased. Every time I go to the cemetery for my class, I bring a small white board, colored pencils and a keyboard. There are now 40 WWW.COLuMbaN.ORG
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to 50 children who are waiting to be loved and to love. I bring some snacks with me also. Sometimes I get the feeling that I am a walking classroom! But as days go by I get the feeling that Jesus loves the cemetery children more and more each day, and I, too, have come to love them very much. I try to speak Tagalog, the national language, and somehow the children understand what I’m saying to them. We correct and finish each other’s sentences both in Filipino and Korean. Whenever I make a mistake they burst out laughing while vigorously clapping their hands. In early November, one boy said to me, “I want to have a Christmas party.” He was right; surely these cemetery children should enjoy Christmas despite their dreadful poverty. They divided themselves into working groups, and they started practicing some dances every day. I gave them paper and
crayons to make the decorations. They decorated the walls, and it turned out so beautifully. Magnificent! Gorgeous! Amazing! Late in the evening one of the boys said in a loud voice, “Group hug! Group hug!” and they all surrounded me to hug me. That night my reflection was that I’d met a loving Jesus in the cemetery through the children. He had been there all the time patiently waiting to meet me. The Sisters gave me a big box that came from our kind benefactors containing toys, clothes, books. I was able to collect gifts and food for over 130 children. On the day of the party, the cemetery was full of laughter and joy. When all the kids were given their gifts, there was still one big bundle of gifts left. That is the loving kindness of the God in whom we believe. CM Columban Sr. Julietta Choi, in the photo at left, is a young Korean Columban Sister on her first missionary appointment in the Philippines.
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My Life in Ballymun Journeying with Others by Lorile Ocaya
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ne of the joys I experience in my mission in Ireland is that I am able to have a glimpse of the lives of the people I work with which gives me the opportunity to journey with them making my life as a missionary more colorful and meaningful. I was assigned in Ballymun, on the north side of Dublin, the capital city of Ireland. In the 1960s, when Ireland started to gain strength in the economy and became a member of the European Union, Ballymun was the best place to live in. People from all over the country wanted to live in this place because of its magnificent and superb highrise buildings with condos that had a state-of-the-art centralized heating system. There were also very spacious rooms and a little terrace where one could relax and enjoy oneself feeding the birds and watching the sunset during summer. During that time, Ballymun also had probably the best shopping center in the whole of Ireland. My parish priest, Fr. Gerry Corcoran, from the Archdiocese of Dublin, would fondly remember Ballymun as the favorite place to go shopping. He enjoyed going to the mall when he was in his early teen years. One of the elderly parishioners who had lived in Ballymun for over 40 years quipped, “Ballymun was an ideal place to start a family.” Indeed, she raised her three boys in that environment. 14
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However, Ballymun was not spared from the effects of modernization. As the years passed, Ballymun became a haven of illegal activities, especially drug trafficking. Many residents became hooked on drugs and alcohol. Many families were broken and became dysfunctional. The cases of suicide among young people were widespread. Ballymun became a place where its own people don’t want to identify with it because it developed a bad reputation. Young Ballymuners are reluctant to tell where they came from because of discrimination,
especially when they apply for jobs. They change their postal addresses. It is sad. A once heaven-like place became a haven of illegalities that made it seem like a sore in society. This is the environment I witnessed. My first few weeks in Ballymun were a bit scary in the sense that I was still adjusting to the notion that Ballymun is a tough place. I was used to going to different places in Mindanao (the Philippines) like Jolo, and I can tell you Jolo is more rough than Ballymun. But Ballymun had a different sense, maybe because WWW.COLuMbaN.ORG
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it was a place where drug addicts are rampant and youth gangsters are prominent. I was not used to dealing with such a situation. When I chose Ballymun to be my mission area, I knew (more or less) the facts. I just had to deal with it, and besides I had the feeling that there were other people out there who I could trust. Thanks be to God, He keeps me company and gives me people who I not only trusted, but also who trusted and accepted me as one of their own. I was involved in parish work at the Holy Spirit, a diocesan parish. I assisted in all parish activities, especially the spiritual preparation for first communion and confirmation of primary school children in the parochial school. I was also involved in the ministry of the Word and the Eucharist where I attend regular Friday Mass at a nursing home and help the priest in giving out communion. I also joined in home visitation, especially to elderly who are sick and homebound. I involved myself in the parish team and parish council and with a local ladies’ club who were over 55 years old. To maximize my time in Ballymun, I decided to help out with the pre-school children, ages 3-5, to develop their social skills and learn basic colors, shapes, rhymes, etc., in preparation for the “big” school. Also, in my first year, I helped in the after school remedial class called the Aisling Program for 8 to 12-year-old children with their homework and other activities designed by the program. I also helped organized a children’s choir for the “Do This in Memory of Me” celebration of the Eucharist of the first communicants. My experience in mission gives me the opportunity to work with www.columban.org
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two extreme age groups (3-5 yearold pre-school children and the elderly, 60-90 years old). I am very happy with this, because I am able to develop the basic values of patience, appreciation of the little things and being present among people. I learned to love the elderly and recognize their contribution to healing my relationship with my mother. It gives me the strength to ask forgiveness of all I have done which hurt my mother, and the assurance that I am forgiven. I know I am very incapable of dealing with children, but the children in the playschool taught me to laugh more, since they are awed in their innocence and like have fun while learning about life. My interaction with them helped me a lot in the process of healing my “inner child” and being able to get in touch with it. I am glad I have been able to participate in Christ’s mission in my own little ways as a Columban lay missionary in the region of Ireland. I am happy that I was given the opportunity to be invited and being able to share my gifts with Christ’s mission. There have been very low and discouraging moments which made me disheartened and dejected, yet God’s providence, boundless love and faithfulness are always present reminding me that there is nothing my God and I cannot handle together. I am grateful that I am part of the Columban family in Ballymun. It broadens my understanding of servant-leadership and makes a difference in my life as a missionary. Sometimes, I see mission as quantity rather than quality, and it makes me feel frustrated. It makes me judgmental and causes me to compare myself to others.
I am struggling to be more authentic, not to see mission as work per se but a continuous relationship with my God and His people, always hoping to build the kingdom He proclaims here on earth. I know I have only done very small duties in mission but I’m assured that quantity is not the measurement of my being a missionary, and I still have a long way to go. To end my story, I would like to share my ode to Easter in Ballymun:
“If Christ would Come and Walk this Earth Once Again”
(title is adapted from a song) He would be May in a wheelchair, desperate and in agony yet would get up to greet the new day; He would be Jean bedridden anticipating for the body of Christ everyday; He would be Kathy, a refugee hoping to have a life and future in a land foreign to her; He would be Joyce, a weeping mother for her two drug addict sons pleading people to pray for them; He would be Bobot, an OFW working hard to give good education and good life for her son; He would be Aideen as a busy grandmother gathering around friends to pray and listen to the word of God; He would be Hannah beaming with her smile infecting others, looking forward to her communion day; He would be Trish and Marie, two elderly women gladly waiting for their time to come home to the Father’s house; He would be all those who believe in Easter and become source of life to others. CM
Lorile Ocaya is a Columban lay missionary who lives and works in the United Kingdom.
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Stirring the Pot Room for More Memories
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erhaps many of you cooked and did all the necessary things to keep the home fires burning or were the bread winner of the family. Certainly these are accomplishments to be proud of. However, when you stir the pot of memories, what is likely comes to mind are the people who were with you, the things said and done, the fun times and some of the difficult ones. Looking back you can see that you survived and hopefully thrived. Those same people may now be far from you. Some may have passed away, yet they are alive in you and continue to feed your spirit. That is the experience I have after working on the missions for some 25 years in the Philippines and Jamaica. There were tasks to be done in both countries. I was assigned to parishes that had the main town and often fifteen barrios, or villages, connected to it that involved travel by water or jeep to reach them. Baptisms were often done by the hundreds on fiesta days. Religious instruction
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ela
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by Fr. Vic Gaboury
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had to be provided for literally thousands and all done by student volunteers and parishioners. And yet, when I look back, what comes to mind are those who traveled with me, sharing those tasks. Many have passed away and others are still in touch with me after 50 years. Like you, I also have survived and thrived. How good it was to be there! I’m still stirring the pot.
Stirring the pot, so many memories. How rich I feel! I remember Ka Gaela, a little old lady, who used to call on me to go with her to visit the sick. I was always amazed that she seemed to find the most alone and neediest of people to visit. I could see what a gift her visits meant to those people! Then there was Henrietta in Jamaica. She was very old and lived
in a shack with no running water and no family. I’d bring her some canned goods so she would have something on hand to fall back on. The next visit I noticed that more cans were gone than she could have used. Since the house had no lock, I thought they might have been stolen. I mentioned this to her, and her response was, “Maybe they needed it too!” I was surprised to hear that from a woman who didn’t know where her next meal was coming from. I once met a woman in the hospital who was very ill and could not speak. I sat with her with very few words spoken. Feeling useless, I put my hand on her forehead for some time. Not knowing if this was helpful or not, I removed my hand. She then reached out, took my hand and put it back on her forehead. Who did the ministering that day? It’s a fond memory for me. A young mother came to talk to me about her life situation for which neither she nor I could see a solution. Since it was a small town, WWW.COLuMbaN.ORG
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However, when you stir the pot of memories, what is likely comes to mind are the people who were with you, the things said and done, the fun times and some of the difficult ones.
Henrietta at home www.columban.org
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she said she couldn’t tell anyone about it. We talked and talked some more. I could only hope that she would find strength in my listening. You may have found yourself in a similar situation, helpless to change things. Yet, it was good to be there. Stirring the pot, so many memories. How rich I feel! Today I’m retired and by choice living in a senior housing apartment. I care for my own needs, am within traveling distance from some family and only a few miles from our Columban retirement house where there are priests that I have shared life with in the Philippines and Jamaica. We never imagined we
would be here together! I do a lot of gardening, my favorite pastime. People coming to the house often stop to remark on the garden and sometimes stay to talk. I’m still gathering memories. The best thing is that there is always room for more. Let’s continue to stir the pot! CM Columban Fr. Vic Gaboury lives in Bristol, Rhode Island.
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Lady Immortal Strikes Out Boldly The Year of the Rat By Fr. Kevin O’Rourke The following article originally was published in My Korea: Forty Years without a Horsehair Hat, a cultural introduction to Korea, written by Columban Fr. Kevin O’Rourke. The story below is an excerpt from the book illustrating how Koreans today struggle with old world values. It was raining heavily. The ajumoni struggled with her umbrella as she tried to get into the taxi. Finally she made it, rain dripping everywhere. The taxi driver looked in the rear mirror. “You’ve lived in the U.S., ajumoni,” he said. “How do you know?” she parried. “Are you a chomjaengi (fortune-teller)?” “Matter of fact, I am,” he answered. “I’m right, am I not? You’ve lived in the U.S. When were you born?”
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“Year of the rat.” “Ah, 1960.” “No, ’48 actually, she said, purring now for being taken to be so young. “How about your husband?” “ ’44.” “Ah, year of the monkey. Rat and monkey, not great.” “Everyone says rat and monkey get on fine together.” The driver looked in the mirror again. “Well, it’s not really a great combination, but your face tells me your husband is a lucky man.” “Why’s that?” “You share your blessings. You have a daughter, haven’t you? She lives in America; you ought to live with her.” “Why?” “It would be good for her. She’d
get all your blessings. Of course, it wouldn’t do you a lot of good; your daughter would take all your good joss, but that’s another story. Your eyebrows are very striking, you know. You have a face swimming in good joss. If you hadn’t married your present husband, you’d have been a very wealthy woman. Two husbands and lots of money.” “What’s so great about two husbands?” “Well, it’s better than being stuck with one all your life. Your husband should give thanks every day he wakes up,” he added. “I think he does,” she said demurely. They had reached the ajumoni’s destination in Miari. The fare was 4,800 won. She gave the driver 10,000 won. “Keep the change,” she said. “It’s been a great pleasure being driven by you.” “Thank you,” the driver said. The driver was a very smart operator. At this rate of going, sweet-talking every ajumoni in Seoul, he’d make double fare all day long. Imagine the husband’s reaction that evening when his wife, as she inevitably would, told him about her exciting taxi driver. “That’s just great,” he’d say. “You’re on the town all day, enjoying yourself, being sweet-talked by taxi drivers, while I stay here on my own! And when you get back in the evening, I’m supposed to say, ‘Thank you so much!’ It’s a very unfair world.” CM www.columban.org
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Pray as You Can God Forms the Words by Sr. Redempta Twomey
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here is a story told of a Jewish farmer who, working in his field one day, forgot the time and could not get back before sunset for the Sabbath. He had to spend the day in the field waiting for sunset the following day before he could return home. He was met by his disapproving rabbi who upbraided him for his carelessness. What did you do all day out there in the field? he asked. “Did you at least pray?” The farmer answered, “Rabbi, I am not a clever man. I don’t know how to pray properly. What I did was simply to recite the alphabet all day and let God form the words himself.” Sometimes when we come to pray we can feel like that farmer, having nothing to give God but WWW.COLuMbaN.ORG
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the mundane letters of our lives. No great insights, no revelations, no deep feelings of devotion, just the ordinary, mostly unremarkable happenings of our days. But if we are faithful and continue to offer our mite, we will discover that God is indeed the God of “the bits and pieces” of our lives, as Patrick Kavanagh said. From the alphabet that we offer Him, He writes a great story. Our seeming inability to pray is no barrier to His power. We may have very little but, like the widow that the prophet Elijah met, our meager offering is enough. When he asked her for a bit of bread she said she had nothing but a handful of flour and a little oil out of which she was going to make a last meal for herself
and her son before they lay down to die (of starvation). But for Elijah that was enough; he asked her to make a little cake for him and then prepare something for herself and her son. “The jar of flour shall not go empty, nor the jug of oil dry,” he promised. Her paltry offering became a bottomless store for the future. (1 Kings 17:10-16) We cannot know how our little prayers may affect others, how, unknown to us, they may help effect a change in another’s life. One day a woman, a Jew, and her friend went to look at the cathedral in Frankfurt. While they were standing there in reverent silence, a woman with her shopping basket came in and knelt in a pew in the empty church to pray. This made a deep impression on the observer who later on wrote that she had seen people turn up in time for the service in Protestant churches and in the synagogue. But this unknown woman had come in the middle of the day’s work to the empty cathedral as if to talk with a friend. “I have never been able to forget,” wrote Edith Stein, the Jewish philosopher and teacher who at the time was being called to the faith. Not long afterwards she became a Catholic and later entered the Carmelite monastery in Cologne. In August 1942 she was, with many others, including her own sister, taken to Auschwitz where she died in the gas chambers. Edith Stein, now canonized, is but one of many who have been touched by the “little prayers” of others. Maybe we will discover there are no little prayers at all, that all prayer from a good heart is packed with the punch of the Spirit, so to speak. Even the alphabet. CM Columban Sr. Redempta Twomey lives and works in Navan, Ireland.
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Missionary Society of St. Columban
“Columbans on Mission” Stories Compiled by Fr. Peter Woodruff
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Since 1918, the Missionary Society of St. Columban has been sharing the Gospel in solidarity with the poor throughout the world. Today, Columbans including priests, Sisters and lay missionaries work in fifteen countries around the globe in conjunction with lay men and women within the local communities. Columban Fr. Peter Woodruff spent several years traveling around the Columban world and interviewing the men and women engaged in mission work. The stories collected here provide a rare look at a moment in time in the continuing mission work and the ongoing Columban story. Each story is unique and different, but all of them share in furthering the work of mission today. Explore their first-hand accounts of what it means to be a missionary in today’s ever changing world. Peter Woodruff, Australian by birth, is a member of the Missionary Society of St. Columban and was ordained in 1967. He worked as a missionary priest in parishes located on the northern periphery of Lima, Peru, where much of his prior vision of life was challenged and reshaped by a radically different social reality where the quest for social change and an emerging liberation theology provoked a lengthy and rather chaotic review of many aspects of life and Christian faith. Since leaving Peru in 2009, Peter has traveled to countries where Columban missionaries work, interviewing priests, Sisters, lay missionaries and those with whom they work. He has written and ghostwritten many stories that serve as raw material for the three English language mission magazines of the Columbans in Australia and New Zealand, U.S., Ireland and Britain. Peter currently lives in Australia.
Order Your Copy Today! Author Peter Woodruff
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Call 888-795-4274 ext. 7879, order online at www.xlibris.com, www.amazon.com, www.barnesandnoble.com or visit your local bookstore.
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“I do not ask on behalf of these alone, but for those also who believe in Me through their word; that they may all be one; even as You, Father, are in Me and I in You, that they also may be in Us, so that the world may believe that You sent Me.”
In the same way that Christ called the disciples to unity when He shared these very words with them at the Last Supper, Columban missionaries around the world live in unity with the poor, the downtrodden, the marginalized, those that pray with them and for them, and those that give their support through their kindness and generosity. We are deeply grateful for your prayerful support and want you to know that the unity of support can continue after you are called into our Savior’s loving embrace. By becoming a member of the Columban Fathers’ Legacy Society, you will ensure that the Call to Communion continues to ring out around the world, offering others the opportunity to share in the unity of Christ’s Table.
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~ John 17:20-21
Please remember the Columban Fathers in your estate plans. For more information regarding membership in our Legacy Society, obtaining our legal title or for a handy booklet on how to prepare a will, contract Chris Hochstetler at: Columban Fathers P.O. Box 10 St. Columbans, NE 68056 Phone: 402/291-1920 fax: 402/291-4984 toll-free 877/299-1920 www.columban.org plannedgiving@columban.org
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God depends on you to carry out His plan for the world! You can help Columban Missionaries bring Christ to the people. By virtue of our Baptism, we are called to spread the Good News of Jesus Christ. “Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit; teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you.� ~Matt 28:19 Although you may not be able to go where Columban missionaries go, and you may not be able to do what we do, TOGETHER we can bring Christ in word and sacrament to our sisters and brothers in mission lands. What Columban missionaries achieve is as much your work as theirs, because you make this work possible. Prayer is as vital for the spread of the Gospel as rain is for the growing of things. Financial sacrifice is the inseparable compliment to prayer and is all the more effective when accepted generously and offered in union with the suffering Christ.
Receive
Your sacrifices mean so such to those whom we serve. You can be sure that God will never be outdone in His generosity towards you, your family and loved ones.
Enrich
By helping bring Christ to others you will find your own faith immensely enriched. For more information on how you can be a missionary, or to make a gift online, contact us at: The Missionary Society of St. Columban P.O. Box 10 St. Columbans, NE 68056 Toll Free: 877-299-1920 www.columban.org
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Our Hearts Are the Same as Yours
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or months the Japanese villagers close to the city of Nagasaki cautiously eyed the new building that was under construction. They noticed that some people from other countries who had come into the local harbor were also keenly observing its progress. It was an unusually shaped building. However, as it rose toward the sky, it slowly revealed itself to be a Christian church. This made some of them even more curious. A month after its completion, on March 17, 1865, they cautiously approached one of the foreign priests to inquire about his beliefs. Assured by what he told them, they responded joyfully, “Our hearts are the same as yours.” What a momentous dawn that was for those Christian peasants! The long, dark night of vilification and exile, of torture and crucifixions that they and their ancestors had endured over the previous two hundred and fifty years
FROM THE DIRECTOR By Fr. Tim Mulroy seemed at last to be giving way to the light of a new day. However, some dark clouds still remained on the horizon. The government decreed that the new church was not for its own people, but rather for the many foreigners that were engaged in international trade around the harbor, and so the persecution of Christians continued. Yet, daylight was to conquer darkness eventually when Japanese Catholics were given the freedom to build their own church nearby a decade later. Like a seed, hidden in the dark earth in spring, sends out roots to gather moisture and nutrients
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Throughout those dark and dreary decades of isolation from the rest of the world, many hidden Christians came to cherish dearly those invisible blonds of faith with which they remained united. for its future journey upwards to the daylight, the hidden Christians of Japan had rooted themselves deeply in their faith in order to be able to persevere on their long and arduous journey into the light. Throughout those dark and dreary decades of isolation from the rest of the world, many hidden Christians came to cherish dearly those invisible bonds of faith with which they remained united with other Christians around the world. Across the great silence of the centuries, they yearned for the day when they would be able to openly celebrate those bonds of communion with their brothers and sisters in Christ everywhere. For the past sixty-five years Columban missionaries have ministered in Japan, and though the culture, language and way of life there differ greatly from those of our home countries, through their fervent faith and hospitality, Japanese Christians continue to remind us that, “Our hearts are the same as yours.”
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We encourage you to visit us online at www.columban.org.
you ‘give me a drink,’ you would have asked and he would have
Through our website, you can join in our mission as together we help those who need it most.
given you living water.” — John 4:10
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We invite you to join this new generation by becoming a Columban Father or Columban Sister. If you are interested in the missionary priesthood, write or call… Fr. Bill Morton National Vocation Director Columban Fathers St. Columbans, NE 68056 877-299-1920 Email: vocations@columban.org Website: www.columban.org
If you are interested in becoming a Columban Sister, write or call… Sister Virginia Mozo National Vocation Director Columban Sisters 2546 Lake Road Silver Creek, NY 14136 626-458-1869 Email: virginiamozo@yahoo.com Websites: www.columbansisters.org www.columbansistersusa.com
Japan + Korea + Peru + Hong Kong + Philippines + Pakistan + Chile + Fiji + Taiwan + North America
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